Damaged Goods
by Judge-Douglas-Mason
Summary: GS.....Sara is at the end of her rope. Who will catch her when she falls?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I did, but I don't. Que Sera Sera.  
I'm Not Afraid-RemyZero ----------- 

Grissom:  
-----------

Another year has gone by and another year of loneliness gives way to a whole New Year of loneliness. I almost put a stop to it tonight. I almost took her hand in mine and told her the truth. The truth being that I love her; that I've always loved her and that I will always love her. I had done some spiritual mustering and soul searching and I was all set to confess. That's when she came through the doors. She looked really rather unhappy and for the life of me, I wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and when the clock struck midnight, I would have loved to plant a kiss on her lips that would have made her toes curl. But as I sat and watched her, my nerve slowly drained away only to be replaced by fear,apprehension and self loathing. As the bar fills up with patrons, I shift in my seat to get a better look at her.

I watched her sit alone for a while, downing beer after beer and fending off leech after seedy, leering leech. She was always a looker, even in her younger days (which weren't all that long ago). The first time I set eyes on her I was immediately taken and when it came time to replace Holly Gribbs, she was my first and only choice. At this moment, this makes beer number 4 within an hour of her being here. Sitting in the shadows, alone, I watch her. Watching is all I can do. If I try anything more, God only knows what'll happen.

Sara:  
--------

I really don't want to be here. I told everyone that all I wanted to do was go home, crack open a beer and veg in front of the tellie. I want to be in my flannel PJ's with my thick rag wool socks and wrapped up an a nice wool blanket on the couch. That's what I want to do. Its nearly midnight and Nick and Warrick said they'd be here, but as I watch the minutes tick by, I realize that I'd been duped. Sucking down the remnants of my last drink of the evening, I take one last, long look around and just as I'm about to get up, that's when I see him.

He's sitting in shadow and he looks like I feel, cold, alone and crappy. Maybe I should go over to him and keep him company, but then if he wanted company he would have waved me over to him, wouldn't he? Trying not to seem obvious, I do a visual sweep one more time and slam my bottle down on the bar. I swear, the more I try to understand that man, the more my head hurts. Just thinking about him, I feel a migraine coming on. He confuses the hell out of me. Sometimes he'll say something so sweet and warm and almost like he's got MPD, he'll say or do something to take it back. The pain is for me, though. The pain of going on day after day, knowing that the man I love is only ten feet away, but at the same time, miles from me. In his office, he sits and busies himself with papers or the care and feeding of his numerous critters, and as soon as I get anywhere close to him, he tightens up and retreats into his own little world, shutting me out. I'd say "Hi" or greet him with a "How was your weekend, Griss", but that'd probably give him a panic attack.

Slamming my empty bottle down on the bar, I get up and leave for home. Standing outside, I hail a cab and as we pull away from the pub, I can see him out of the corner of my eye, standing alone, his fingers raking through his lovely salt and pepper curls. On the radio I can hear the song that was playing the last time we had anything even remotely close to an adult conversation. Actually, it was more like a fight, but hey, that's what we've reverted to as of late; battles of words. I'd call him insensitive and he'd call me childish and immature. I'd retort that he's a pissed off little hermit that is in dire need of a good lay and he'd look at me like I was a freak.

Tonight,we can no longer fight

we can never return to it once we begin

to see through the eyes up over heaven

would you ever return to me in the end?

I'm not afraid of you at all

if you turned away they will all fall

Grissom:  
------------

Driving home, I pop in a cd that's at the top of the stack and as the song plays, I'm hit by a deluge of not so pleasant memories. The last time I heard this song was the day before yesterday when Sara and I were on assignment. I went to change the station and she stopped me, saying that she liked the song. Granted my response at the time was less than adult, but before I knew it we were arguing. She called me selfish and I called her a spoiled little prima donna. We were sitting at a red light and I had finally had it. I put the truck in park and jumped out, heading back towards the lab, while she went on to the scene. When I got back to the lab, I holed up in my office and made to tackle the mounting pile of paperwork on my desk.

It sucks, really. I kind of like this song, but its a pity that hearing it stirs up all sorts of negative emotions in me. The neon of Las Vegas is blinding at any time of day and even more so at night. Sitting at the corner of Tropicana, it hits me. I've got to make amends, no matter the cost. I've got to be the bigger man, so to speak. I know that I'm not totally without blame myself. I know that I have a tendency to be cold and at times a bit distant. I know that all she wants to do is to get on with me in a personal/professional manner. What would be so bad about that? Would it be so bad if we went out and something actually clicked between us? I've spent the majority of my life alone and afraid, so what harm would it do to see if anything happens.

Sara:  
---------------

To the outside observer my apartment might seem small and spartan, but for me, it's all I need. There's an eat in kitchen, a nice little corner for my office, a large bedroom and a really big living area. As the hall light shines in through my open apartment door, I see things a bit differently. I see the stack of magazines on the floor beside the coffee table and the dishes that had piled up in the sink. If there's anyone to blame, its me. Even though I'm never here, the place still manages to get all messed up. Right now, however, I'm no tin the mood to clean. I'm in the mood to drown my sorrows in the bottom of a very large bottle. I remember what Jim told me earlier in the year, about there being more problems that solutions in the bottom of the bottle, but right now I could care less.

In my flannel jammies with my socks on and wrapped up in a wool blanket, I stare at my coffee table. All I want to do is go to sleep and never wake up. If I wake up I'll hurt and if I hurt others will hurt, either by my action, inaction or what I might say. This is not the way I had envisioned going out, but as far as physical pain is concerned, its one of the best ways.

Now I'm waiting. Waiting for sleep to come and take me away. I'm wide awake and very lucid as I watch a video. The phone rings and I pick it up. Answering, I'm less hospitable than I would have liked to be, but hey, its my house and I'll answer the phone any way I see fit.

"What?"

Its Jim calling to wish me Happy New Year's. I tell him that I'm not in any mood to chat but he is not to be dissuaded. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he knew I'd been drinking and as the God's honest truth, I was afraid that he would show up on my doorstep and try to cheer me up.

tonight, we can no longer try

all the time that I cried I want you again

no one's heard this no voice resounds

no one's around

I can't believe it

what I have become no

one its over now

Grissom:  
-----------------

I know she's not expecting me, but if I don't do this now than I'll never be able to do it.I've got to proceed before I lose my gumption. She'll probably do some yelling and screaming, but like road rash, it's not as bad as it looks. Now, as to what I'll say, that's another story.It has to be something sweet, but not sappy. Profound, but not overly analytical and heart felt but not depressing.

"Sara, you are very important to me. Every day when I got to bed alone, I find myself wishing that you were there with me. I want to wake up to your beautiful smiling face. Your smile, something I like to think you save for me, lights up my whole day. Your eyes are like brilliant pools of amber from millions of years ago. I don't want to live another minute alone. You make me whole."

"Oh, good, her light is on" I thought to myself as I pulled into the spot behind her car. Getting out, I collected myself and kicked myself in the ass to get up there and make my intentions known. Taking the steps two at a time, I was a bit surprised to find the door open. Nudging it open further with a knuckle, I stepped inside. Flipping on the light, I called out.

"Sara"  
"Sara, are you here?"

I could hear the song playing on the stereo on endless repeat. That's when I saw her. She was on the floor with the phone to her ear and her caller shouting. Picking up the receiver I could recognize the voice as Jim's, so I told him the problem.

"Jim, she's out. I think she took a bunch of pills. There are bottles on the coffee table" he explained

"She sounded out of it. She said that things were too hard and that she just wanted to sleep the most peaceful sleep she could." Jim replied "Call rescue. I'll be there in a minute."

I'm not afraid of you at all

I'm not afraid tonight

all your stars glowing bright

I know I'll reach that light again again

ooh again again

All I could do was fall to my knees and cry tears of pain like I had never cried before.


	2. Chapter 2

Grissom:  
-  
God, she looks so peaceful, almost like an angel. What could be so bad in her life that she would see no alternative to ending her life. At work she was "Go, go, go" as usual. I even saw her laughing the other day. She seemed happy. 

Looking up at her from my seated position next to her bedside, I can see that her colour is off and she's thin; thinner than usual. I mean, she's always been on the bony side, but now, right here and now, she looks almost like some of those photos you see in magazines from Auschwitz. Not nearly as emaciated as some, but well on her way.

As I look at our joined hands, I can feel that she's cold, too. Standing up and leaving her room, I go in search of a heated blanket. I found one down the hall a ways and when I returned to her room, I was surprised to see that she had woken up. With a smile on my face, I resumed my perch next to her bedside. I unfolded the blanket and dropped it in top of her. She smiled.

Sara:  
----------

Ugh, I feel like shit. Grissom's here and in all reality, he's the last person I want to see right now. No doubt he's got some sort of lecture in mind for me. Maybe something along the lines of "What could be so bad?" or maybe even "We're family, how could you do this to family". Whenever something happens, when ever something goes wrong, he's there like a preternatural authority figure from thousands of years ago saying, "If you do that again I'll fucking spank you". He's got this way of conveying a message loud and clear without even using any words, so maybe it'll just be a particularly evil look. There's only one way to find out, right?

He's being unusually sweet, given all that's gone on between us. I hate that this is what it took for him to notice me. I shouldn't have had to chew a bunch of sleeping pills in order for him to light a fire under his ass and, for the very first time, realize what was actually going on beyond the confines of his office or condo. I don't want to say anything, lest he read too much into whatever comes out of my mouth, so I'll just lay here and smile. I'll pretend that I've got a big headache and that it hurts to talk, maybe that'll do it.

Grissom:  
------------

She's not saying anything. She's just grinning and trying to avoid eye contact. If she doesn't want to talk that's cool; there's plenty of time for that later. Right now she needs to concentrate on getting better and hashing out some of her more pressing issues. She just lays there for a few minutes and then drifts back to sleep. I wish I could stay here all night, but shift is about to begin and I've got to be there, but at the same time someone needs to be here for her, someone she can talk to, someone she's comfortable around. I pull out my cell and dial.

I know its Nick's night off, but for something as serious as this, I think he'll understand. He agrees to come over and keep Sara company, saying he'd be there in about half an hour.

Her eyes closed and her head turned away from me, I lean over and plant a little peck of a kiss on her forehead and whisper that I'd be back later. Gathering my coat, I leave her to sleep.

Sara --------

Good, he's gone. I open my eyes and look around. I know I'm in hospital, that's obvious. But I want out of here. So, slowly and methodically, I disengage myself from the heart monitor, the pulse-ox machine and remove my IV, placing a 4x4 on the puncture and taping it down. I find my personal effects in a bag on a chair in the corner of the room and dress in record time.

Outside, I hail a cab and just tell him to drive. Where am I headed, I don't know. I just want out of here.

Nick --------

Entering the room that Grissom had told me Sara was in, I see the bed is empty and all the Ivs and monitors had been unhooked. Hurrying to the nurse's station, I find the first person and enquire as to Sara's whereabouts. Apparently she's gone missing and no one knows where she's gone. I pull out my cell and call Grissom to let him know she's gone. He's understandably upset, as am I. Where could she have gone to?

Sara --------

I don't know how I got here, and don't even remember telling the cabbie to bring me here, but here I am, nonetheless. Paying and getting out, I climb the stairs and knock on the apartment door, hoping not to startle the resident.

Greg --------

A knock comes to my door and as I open it I see Sara standing there looking like she'd been hit by a Mack truck. She's pale, more so than usual and looks as if she's gonna fall over at any second. I take her hand and guide her inside. She looks like she needs to lie down, so I show her to my bedroom and help her into bed, removing her shoes, jacket and covering her up. Within minutes I can hear her soft snore and its safe to make the call I know I must make. Picking up the handset of the phone, I call Grissom's cell and let him know what's going on. He seems a bit relieved to know she's ok and tells me to just take care of her until he can get over here, which won't be for some time.

I feel really bad for her. I mean, what could be so bad in her life that the only way out, the only solution to her problems would be to take her own life? I mean, I knew things weren't perfect, but whatever is? Sitting on the couch, I keep the volume on the tellie low so as not to wake her from her seemingly much needed sleep.

Grissom -------------

I wonder why she felt the need to leave the hospital, but then again she was always a bit headstrong. I wonder why she went to Greg's. I wonder why Its so hard for me to open up to her. I mean we've known each other for years and it should be one of the easiest things to do; to tell her how I feel, but every time I think I'm ready to confess I sort of shut down. My mind goes blank and I say or do something to shut her out or push her away. These are the last things I want to do. I wish I could just tell her that love her and accept her reaction, but as I said, every time I think I'm ready, my mind reminds me that I'm not.

This has got to stop. I've got to be honest and accept the consequences of my actions and inactions. God, why is this so hard?


End file.
